


I My Me Mine

by owltype



Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:06:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2624537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owltype/pseuds/owltype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoochun is fed up with perverts. Jaejoong is fed up with Yoochun. Junsu is just fed up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I My Me Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Polysics' song of the same name.

““ _You can ride me._ ””

“Yoochun, please--”

“He said you can _RIDE_ him!”

“I’m not deaf, Yoochun, I heard--”

“He can’t say those things to you!”

Jaejoong huffs in some kind of mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Well, thank you, I guess, for protecting my integrity, but I don’t really think--”

Yoochun points at Jaejoong, his eyes dark. “You can’t sleep with him.”

What Jaejoong wants to say is this: _It’s not your business. I can sleep with whoever I want to. You don’t own me._

Any of those things would be appropriate. But instead, what comes out of his mouth is: “Okay. I won’t sleep with him.”

Yoochun nods, placated for the moment, looking embarrassed.

“So,” Jaejoong says into the silence. “Who gets to fix Junsu?”

\-----

Yoochun pulls Jaejoong away, his grip on Jaejoong’s wrist like iron.

“What is it with these perverts,” Yoochun is mumbling.

“Yoochun, you’re hurting me,” Jaejoong says calmly.

Yoochun stops and turns to glare at Jaejoong. “He put his hands on you,” he says.

“Oh my god, it was only my waist,” Jaejoong says, exasperated. “You touch my waist all the time!”

As if to prove his point, Yoochun’s fingers dig into Jaejoong’s waist hard enough to bruise. “He shouldn’t be touching you,” he says. “It’s not professional.”

Junsu, on his way past them, scoffs.

\-----

Yoochun seethes.

“Dude, chill,” Jaejoong says, bored. “It’s just a picture.”

“He sent you a picture of his _dick_.”

Jaejoong shrugs. “I have worse pictures on my phone. Like that one of Junsu--”

“Finish that sentence and die,” Junsu says and stalks off.

\-----

“Jaejoong-ssi, I’d like to invite you out to--”

Yoochun pushes himself between the radio host and Jaejoong, slides up against Jaejoong’s side.

“What are you, a fucking cat?” Jaejoong hisses once the host has gone.

“Meow,” Yoochun says playfully, and nips at Jaejoong’s neck.

\-----

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“You _can’t.”_

 _“Yes_ I _can_.”

Yoochun is maybe a little drunk and he’s pouting and his eyes are sad and there’s an angry red flush working its way down his neck and he’s standing in front of Jaejoong’s door with his arms crossed and glaring at Jaejoong like he’s been betrayed.

Jaejoong is definitely drunk and he just _does not care_.

“I’m going,” he says and tries to push past Yoochun but he trips over air and falls forward against Yoochun’s chest and Yoochun’s arms wrap around his shoulders and hold him tight and Jaejoong can feel Yoochun’s heart beating fast against his cheek.

“Stay with me,” Yoochun says softly and Jaejoong doesn’t even comment that it’s _his house_ because there are a million complicated emotions hovering around them anyway--what’s one more--and Jaejoong knows this is crazy and he knows they should talk but Yoochun smells nice and he feels nice and Jaejoong just _does not care_ so he says, _Yes, Chunnie, I’ll stay with you_ and leaves it at that.

\-----

“Did you guys sleep together yet?” Junsu asks over drinks the next day.

Yoochun chokes on his coffee.

Jaejoong sprays his all over the pristine white table cloth.

Junsu looks on, unconcerned. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

\-----

“You are the biggest cockblock ever!”

“He was an asshole,” Yoochun says matter-of-factly and more than a little defensively.

“I wasn’t going to fuck his _personality_ ,” Jaejoong rages.

Yoochun sputters and opens and closes his mouth like a beached fish suffocating on air and his fingers make little grabby motions at his sides like he wants to touch Jaejoong but there is a warning in Jaejoong’s eyes that clearly says _stay away_.

“I haven’t had sex in _weeks_ because of you!” Jaejoong yells. “You keep scaring everybody off!” Jaejoong points one manicured finger and pokes Yoochun hard in the chest. “Fix this, Park Yoochun,” he whispers menacingly then stomps away to pout alone in his bedroom.

\-----

The next day Junsu places a package on the table in front of Jaejoong and Yoochun.

And then he just. Leaves.

Jaejoong and Yoochun stare down at the brown paper package all tied up with string, half expecting it to be a bomb of some kind.

Finally, Jaejoong pokes at it gingerly, and when it doesn’t explode in his face, he and Yoochun unwrap it.

An assortment of different colored (and flavored) bottles of lube spill out over the counter and there are enough condoms to last them through a nuclear winter.

And there’s a card that reads:

_Dear hyung-deul,_

_Please use these before I murder the both of you in your sleep._

_Much love,_

_Junsu_

\-----

Yoochun slowly reaches out and palms one of the bottles of lube.

Jaejoong notes the little strawberries on the label.

Yoochun looks up at Jaejoong and his eyes are dark and wild and his pupils are blown wide and Jaejoong feels like he has fire under his skin and it’s burning away his sanity.

“It would be rude,” Yoochun says. “To not.”

“Yes,” Jaejoong says, breathless, and leans in closer.

\-----

Yoochun’s hips slide between Jaejoong’s thighs and their breaths catch on a shared groan.

“Kiss me,” Jaejoong demands, buries his hands in dark hair, tugs Yoochun forward, moans when Yoochun’s teeth dig into his upper lip.

Jaejoong’s shirt falls apart in Yoochun’s hands, is left to dangle off of his shoulders as Yoochun pops open the button on his jeans, begins peeling denim away from skin. Yoochun’s shirt is already gone, flung somewhere, and it doesn’t take long to rid him of those hideous capris.

The next time they come together, there are no barriers between them.

“Chunnie,” Jaejoong gasps and arches his back.

Yoochun shoves Jaejoong back down and crawls over him, spreads Jaejoong open across the bed, lets his hands wander over Jaejoong’s sculpted abs and his mouth follows the path laid out by his fingers.

“Okay that’s enough foreplay,” Jaejoong says, his voice breathy and soft and he sits up and rolls Yoochun over and Yoochun hoists him up and on top of him and then Jaejoong is pressing the bottle of lube into his hands.

“Condom?” Yoochun asks stupidly and over-pours lube over his fingers.

Jaejoong shakes his head and presses back against Yoochun’s touch and Yoochun is afraid he might cum from just that.

It’s not enough and soon Jaejoong is pouring lube on Yoochun’s cock and then he’s moving and Yoochun is burning up and falling apart and breaking down and the only coherent thought in his head is _Jaejoong Jaejoong Jaejoong Mine Mine Mine._

 _“Mine,”_ Jaejoong gasps and Yoochun moans and tugs Jaejoong down harder, moves faster, thumbs the head of Jaejoong’s cock and claws at his name inked into Jaejoong’s skin and then Jaejoong comes and Yoochun isn’t too far behind.

\-----

“Now was that so hard?” Junsu asks them the next day as he pulls Yoochun’s discarded shirt off of a lamp shade.

“Be careful, Junsu,” Jaejoong says airily. “Any more sass from you and I’ll send your mother that picture of you--”

Yoochun has to sit on Junsu to keep him from lunging at Jaejoong.


End file.
